


First Class

by desfinado



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desfinado/pseuds/desfinado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Gerard is totally disturbed, because he's sort of obsessed with making Frank drool.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	First Class

**Author's Note:**

> For [mrsronweasley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsronweasley), who was having a shitty day and deserved a better one! With shameless porn!
> 
> [shiningartifact](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningartifact) has recorded a totally incredible, totally filthy podfic of this story and you should listen to it _immediately_! Check it out [here](http://shiningartifact.livejournal.com/40825.html).

Gerard is totally disturbed, because he's sort of obsessed with making Frank drool.

It's not even the kind of obsession he can keep to himself, because Frank is an _obnoxious asshole_ who always catches Gerard watching when Frank takes a sloppy swig from a water bottle and it dribbles down his chin, Frank's fist rubbing wet and messy around his shiny red mouth. Frank also has no sense of decency because, even though Gerard is in the middle of a conversation with his brother, Frank grins from behind Mikey, alternating bringing his fist to his lips and poking his cheek out with his tongue.

It really shouldn't be sexy, but Gerard is _troubled_ , so he starts choking on his own saliva—which he should have learned how to swallow by now—and Frank keeps doing it, adding crossed eyes when Mikey turns around to see. His own brother is laughing now as Frank fake-gags and Gerard's belly twists hotly without his permission. For fuck's sake.

Half an hour later in the locked dressing room, though, Frank's gagging for real, lips stretch tight and wide around Gerard's dick, and it is so fucking worth it.

Gerard's in one of the make-up chairs, hands clenched white-knuckled on the armrests, slumped so low the bottom of his ass is hanging off the chair and his legs are bent, spread wide. The position puts the shoulder padding of his Black Parade jacket up around his ears, pinching tight in his armpits, and Gerard thinks his bare thighs look jiggly, white and awkward with their sparse black hairs but he also kind of likes the idea of keeping the jacket on.

Frank is on his haunches, Adidas folded under him, and he's got his shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms, hands braced on Gerard's pale thighs, elbows bending as he ducks and lifts. His eyelashes cast a soft shadow against his cheeks but it's deceptively vulnerable, with the swing of Frank's long hair messy and sweat-damp across his face and the muscles shifting in his forearms; all that ink against Gerard's skin, the darker tan of Frank's hands and arms looks really fucking good.

Gerard's grunting and breathing heavily, the hot wet slide of Frank’s mouth winding him up slowly. In the empty room it's Frank that's the loudest, he always is, the wet smacking of skin-on-skin and sudden slurps whenever he breaks his suction. There's spit sliding down the bottom of Gerard's cock, the part that Frank can't reach with just his lips, and along Gerard's balls. The displacement of air as Frank moves cools it there and _fuck_ that feels good.

"Frank," Gerard grits out, prying his fingers from their death-grip on the arm of the chair to fold over one of Frank's hands. Frank blinks up at him, eyes blown. Gerard places Frank's hand on the base of his dick, fingertips in short, wiry curls.

Frank doesn't waste any time, pulls off and works his cheeks before he spits into his palm. Gerard's mouth drops open as he watches it drip slow and wet from Frank's puckered lips. Frank grins at him, wraps his slippery palm around Gerard's cock, forefinger and thumb a tight, squeezing circle. He pauses, looking up, and Gerard stares. Frank's got a vice grip on him, right at the base, and Gerard's dick stands out impossibly hard and red as Frank angles it left and then right, licks his lips and leans back, like he's really looking at it. Veins are sticking out in relief, head a dark red-purple, and the whole length is fucking _glistening_ , wet and messy with Frank's spit.

"You got a first-class dick," Frank says in an appraising voice, sitting back on his heels, holding his arm out straight and pushing down at Gerard's base so his dick is hard and still.

"Shit," Gerard grunts, because he already feels like a bit of an asshole with the jacket on, but Frank's goading him on here. "You like it?"

Frank raises his eyebrows, shakes his sweaty hair out of his face. "Do I like your cock?" His mouth rounds out the last syllable, stays open.

Gerard narrows his eyes, nods slowly. He looks down at himself and Frank's hand, scribbled with tattoos, spread around him. And yeah, his cock does look fucking _great_ like that, jutting hard and long and red from circled fingers and dark curls.

"Eh," Frank shrugs. "I take it back. I don’t see what’s so—"

"What's so fucking _special_ about it," Gerard interrupts, "is that this dick—" his chin's on his chest because he's slouched in the chair but he schools his face, fierce, jaw set, "—is the dick—" Gerard meets Frank's eyes, which are shining with defiance (but Gerard knows he fucking _loves_ this), "—that you're going to choke yourself on while you come all over the floor of this dressing room."

Frank squeezes the tight ring of his fingers, grinning. "Yes fucking please," he breathes, before lowering himself again. Gerard's chest hitches and he watches as Frank licks and then pouts his lips. Using his hand still wrapped around the base, he guides the head of Gerard's cock along his top and then his bottom lip, like fucking _lipstick_ , before running it back and forth across the seam of his lips, wet and shining red. The metal of his lip ring is a flash of cool that sets Gerard's skin ablaze, sweat breaking out across his lower back under the heavy fabric of the jacket.

"Suck my dick," Gerard grinds out, bucking his hips up, and his cock slides wet and messy across Frank's flushed cheek, catching a few strands of his hair, "motherfucker."

Frank groans then, loud and uninhibited—which Gerard fucking loves about Frank, he'll annoy the hell out of you but has no reservations about enjoying it—and sucks Gerard's length into his mouth. It’s good in a new way, in a more immediate, brain-melting sort of way. Gerard can hear choppy breath, the wet sounds of movement, as Frank sucks up and down, fast and sloppy, his fist pumping at the base in time, spit-slick and impossibly tight.

"Want to see you—" Gerard says in a hoarse voice, getting close, "—come all over the dirty floor."

Frank shuffles forward on his knees, not breaking his slippery suction, gets his free hand to his belt and sits up briefly to open his fly and pull his dick out. The dry slap-slap of his hand, the jerk of his shoulders and the sound of moving fabric is all the indication Gerard has that he's jacking himself off.

Frank's eyes are closed but he moans, vibration all along Gerard's dick, and his eyebrows draw together. It's so fucking hot, this inked, sweaty guitarist hunched over between Gerard’s knees, left arm shaking with the movement of his hand in his lap, compact energy and strength all concentrated on getting them both off.

"Fucker," Gerard groans, reaches down to skate his fingertips across Frank's hollowed cheeks. Fuck, he can _feel_ himself in there, the way Frank's cheeks suck in and then fill, that hardness that he knows is his dick.

Gerard's getting overwhelmed by the heat and wet of Frank's mouth, the tightness of the suction, and slips one finger inside the seam of his red lips just underneath his cock, alongside Frank's lip ring. Frank moans around him again, and _shit_ that feels good. Gerard pulls his finger out, saliva dripping down Frank's chin, and he smears it around Frank's cheek. The glistening wet on his skin and lips, all over Frank's knuckles and the letters there, makes Gerard's hips jerk. God, he is _so close_.

"Don't fucking stop," Gerard warns, fits his hand under Frank's ear and jaw, pulling Frank's head forward in time with his movement. Frank's moaning on every exhale now, hiccuping for breath, shoulders shaking as he fists his dick, eyebrows knitted together under the swing of his hair, sticking to the wet smeared across his face. "Holy shit holy shit, don't even—don't—" Gerard gasps, hands flying up, fingers raking down his own face. His knees jerk together around Frank's ears as he comes. "Fuuuuuuuuuck."

Frank pulls off, coughing, face pressed into the soft pale of Gerard's thigh. Gerard's done, totally fucking done, but can feel Frank shaking as he speeds up the movement of his own hand, can feel a bit of wet—spit, probably some of his own come—dribble out of Frank's parted lips.

"Christ," Frank mutters, "ungh." And then he stills, moaning open-mouthed into Gerard's thigh, before slumping against him.

Gerard is dimly aware of his dick softening, saliva cooling on his skin. His thighs start to quiver, muscles failing him, and he hoists himself to sit upright in the chair with a grunt. Frank makes a noise, displaced.

"Goddamn," Gerard smiles.

Frank grins up at him as he lifts onto his knees, pushes damp hair out of his face with his clean hand. "Yeah?"

" _Fuck_ yeah," Gerard says without missing a beat, watching Frank wipe his other hand off on the linoleum floor and button his pants.

When Gerard's retrieved his pants from the other chair and is lacing up his boot, Frank flicks at one of the brass buttons on his chest. Gerard looks up at him.

"That thing gives you an ego, you know," Frank grins.

Gerard shrugs, shoulder padding shifting up and back down as he stands. "Maybe it's not the jacket. Maybe it's my _first-class dick_ ," he ducks to whisper against Frank's cheek. It's still messy-damp and Frank turns, kisses Gerard quick before biting at his bottom lip. Gerard steps back, laughing, tucking his hair behind his ear before following Frank out into the hall.

Gerard does feel pretty good about himself right now. The thing he won't tell anyone is that it's secretly because of how awesome Frank is.

* * *

END


End file.
